


Tell Me When

by CareenMeToSpace



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Sibling Incest, Stancest - Freeform, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:04:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CareenMeToSpace/pseuds/CareenMeToSpace
Summary: Ford subtly reveals his attraction to his brother. Stan pushes Ford too far and finally experiences the extent of his controlling personality. It's just such torture.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. I don't know how anything works. Enjoy.

Stanley made his way up the stairs to his and his brother’s room. The sound of shuffling papers and his brother’s out loud thoughts drifted to him before even reaching the door. Stan crossed his arms and leant against the doorframe for a moment, watching his brother and his unnecessarily frantic studying.

“Hey poindexter, when was the last time you took a break?”

Ford almost jumped out of his seat.

“Geez Stan. Don't scare me like that!”

“Hehe. Sorry. Didn't know I had to announce myself.” Stan grinned, letting his gaze fall down to his brother's backside.

“I breaked for breakfast,” Ford said.

“It's 4:30. You didn't have any lunch?”

“Mum didn't call us down.”

Stan shut the door and threw himself on the bottom bunk.

“You know dad's rule. Door stays open Stan.”

“They went away for the weekend. Don't you remember? Romantic little beach getaway so they can get it on without us around.”

“Stan! That image is not conductive for my studies.”

“It's the weekend Ford. You're getting way ahead of yourself for a test that isn't for another week and wasting valuable relaxation time.”

Ford turned to the next page and sighed.

“And from the look of it, you could use a stress release.”

Ford spun in the swivel chair to face his brother, arms crossed. His intended anger fell flat however when he looked at his brother lying lazily back on the bed. He had one knee up and the other crossed over it. The back of his hand lay over his eyes, giving a great view of his sculpted arm. The whole thing was glazed in a dreamy sense of weekend bliss. It was like you could see the lack of responsibility dripping off Stanley. His eyes were closed, but he was gently grinning, showing just a slice of his perfect teeth. Ford watched his brother's chest expanding and contracting, the white fabric taut over his bulky boxing muscles. The final nail in his coffin was looking down at the jeans Stan was wearing. They couldn't be described as tight, but from his position they gave a damn fine bulging tease of what was inside. Just like that. His innocence was dead. Ford caressed his own leg as a substitute for something he most definitely should not do while staring at his brother. Stan opened his eyes and looked up at Ford who had been quiet too long. Ford quickly swerved back to his desk knocking his knee against it in the process. A blush formed at his cheeks.

“Like what ya see Sixer?” Stan teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Ford stayed silent and busied himself with some papers.

“Woah my god. You do!”

“Leave me alone Stan.”

Stan chuckled and stood up.

“There ain't no way I'm leaving this alone Sixer. You want me. I saw as much a minute ago. I know that look. Just like all those chicks at the bar. Eating me up with their eyes.”

Stan jerked the chair back from the desk, dragging Ford with it and placed his hands on the armrests on either side of his brother. Like this, their faces were only inches apart, Ford with his look of embarrassed terror and Stan’s evil grin. The chair slammed hard against the wall and Stan placed a knee at his brother's crotch.

“Aah,” Ford gasped in shock.

“This is perfect Ford. I can help you relax in the best way.” Stan increased the pressure of his knee and rubbed it against his brother 

Before Ford could protest, he felt Stan's hand at his neck, guiding him into a hungry kiss. There was no question of entrance or gentleness. Stan's tongue explored deep into Ford's mouth, delving into something like he owned it. Ford started to melt, his thoughts of escape from this dream absent until Stan's hands dipped under his belt. It was wrong somehow. For a while he disregarded it as the incestuous part of the ordeal, but after a moment Ford had his mind made up. He pulled out of the kiss using all his strength and pushed back on Stan's shoulders. It wasn't enough though so he brought a leg up and kicked his brother backwards onto the bed. The cocky grin still cursed his brother's face. Ford stood up from the chair, rising above his brother intimidatingly.

“This isn't how this is going to go Stanley,” Ford managed, huffing.

Stan chuckled.

“I know what you want Sixer. You can't resist me.” Stan sat up on the edge of the bed. Ford moved towards him. As he got close, Stan slid a foot up his brother's leg.

“Stop that.”

“Make me,” Stan retorted.

Ford looked at his hand.

“If I knew you were going to be this uptigh-”

Ford interrupted his brother by striking his face. Stan's whole body cowered at the action.

“I know better than you Stan-” Stan's grin was completely gone. “-what I want and it may be you, but not like that. Not that creepy, hollow sexual deviant!”

Stan flinched at each of the words like they stung.

“When I want you, I'll have you Stan. You got that?”

“Yeah, sure Sixer.”

“Yes Ford,” Ford corrected.

“Y-yes Ford.”

Ford went and sat back down at his desk, leaving his brother to feel abandoned. He was riveted and confused. Any other time Stan would have fought him all the way. Somehow he had demanded respect, dominance. The thought touched a dark place in his mind. It was delicious. Ford pulled his textbook back in front of him, but could hardly think. Part of this new play would be denial, so he ignored his brother, ignored the tightening sensation in his pants. Stan however couldn't. He stood up quickly and almost ran out of the room.

“Fuck,” Ford breathed, caressing the bulge of his pants.

_That felt so damn good._

 

 _That slap._ Stan recalled, staring into the bathroom mirror. A hot imprint of Ford's huge hand, all six fingers were visibly shown on his face. He’d hit him hard, no holding back. It was something reactionary, primal, how could he have reacted so weakly? Stan rested both his hands on either side of the sink for a moment before running water to wash his face. He stopped with the water in his hands and turned the faucet off. Looking at the imprint, he ran the memory back over in his mind.

“Fuck it,” he said aloud, unzipping his pants. Stan grabbed some toilet paper to catch what he was about to do. No sense in having to clean his cum off the bathroom. He stood, alternating between shutting his eyes and being back in their room to looking at his punishment in the mirror as he slowly rubbed himself.

_“I know better than you-”_

_“When I want you, I'll have you.”_

“Yes Ford.” Stan whispered, sliding his finger over the head of his dick.

He let out a moan and increased the speed and pressure of his strokes. It was so wrong compared to how he’d started. Stan was always confident, always in control. What the hell happened? The shame and embarrassment started to boil up in Stan's gut. He looked back at himself in the mirror. The heat still radiated off his face. He was angry at Ford for demeaning him like that, but also proud of his brother.

_“Creepy, hollow, sexual deviant.”_

The pressure of it ran through his muscles and it felt like all of him was burning up as the orgasm ripped through him in a long spasm.

“Holy shit," Stan gasped, his knees weakening.

 

Ford listened to the distant sounds of Stan and grinned.

“This should be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment on the story or writing style. I'm always looking for feedback.

Ford handed in his essay and left the class early to make his way to his locker. On the way out he waved at his brother with a smile. Stan kept his head down, but made a vague gesture at Ford, as if to say he’d be done soon. A week had passed since Ford's new stance over his brother became clear. They had yet to say anything of it. Ford went back to studying, Stan went back to boxing. Their work on the Stan o War became quiet and contemplative. Ford almost preferred it that way, but he could tell his brother was squirmish with every interaction, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ford was enjoying the little signs of his effect on Stan. Him offering his place in line, waiting till Ford ate first before starting. Ford half wondered if it was being done on purpose, or if Stan was just a natural submissive. It was oddly charming seeing his brother like this.

Ford opened his locker and got out his backpack. Ready inside for his at home reading was a rope tying manual and anatomical biology textbook. Thankfully both were easily explained for school classes and working on the Stan o War despite being research for later, more sexual exploits.

Ford saw him come out of class and shut his locker.

“You ready to go?” He asked across the hall.

“Yeah,” Stan replied. “I've already got my bag. Let's get outta here.”

Stan walked next to Ford, but the slightest bit behind, as if he were following his brother. He had his hands deep in his pockets and walked looking at the ground in silence. Much as he liked the silence, Ford began to realise how much he missed his brother’s talkative charm. Stan looked so downtrodden and much as the physical respect he was giving Ford helped push his ego up, the silence was only a respect when he desired it. No longer.

“So, how has your boxing been going?” Ford asked.

“Mmh,” Stan grunted. “I knocked a kid clean out the other day.”

“Oh Stan.” He sounded like a disappointed parent.

“Dad said I pulled it off like a pro, but the kid didn't deserve it. They probably put him in the wrong class or something.”

“Hmm. Maybe we could put that energy to better use.” Ford could almost see Stan's ears prick up.

“What are you thinking Sixer?”

“Oh, nothing. Maybe I'll tell you about it later. I do have a gift for you for when we get home though.”

“Better be something good. It's been a pretty shitty week for me,” Stan groaned rubbing the back of his neck.

Ford stopped in the middle of the path.

“Wanna go down to the beach?”

“I don't know ford.”

“Come to the cave with me Stan. Big test is over and all my other assignments are done. We've got time.” Ford offered his brother a hand.

Stan looked at his brother before realising what was happening.

“Yes Ford.” Stan let out a smile. Most of their time at the beach was spent working on the Stan o War. The cave was secluded, dank. It wasn't a place to even explore anymore since they’d found every useful piece of junk in there when they were kids. So Stan got the hint.

When they arrived, the two pulled away the planks cutting off the entrance. Ford slid easily through the gap, but Stan had to remove another plank to fit his broad shoulders through. Soon as he pushed in, he was thrust against the cave wall by Ford. His hands were at his shoulders first but one migrated to his neck and pressed him against the rock. Stan's hands gripped Ford's arm, but the sensation of it wasn't dangerous, more sensory.

“I know you can get out, but I also know you won't,” Ford's words echoed further into the cave. Stan could see the lines of Ford's smile lit from the entrance. He breathed in deep, letting the pressure restrict his breath. It was tantalising how he could hear the rush of his blood and feel the heady change in his brain.

“That’s the most flattering thing about this Stan. You already know I’m better than you, so there's no point in you fighting.”

“That's not it,” Stan said.

“What then?” Ford growled.

“I've always tried to be the tough guy. It works with everyone else. I want this to be different and god it feels so good to just give in.”

“Then give in.” Ford let his hand drop from Stan's neck and shoved him down to kneel in the sand. Stan looked at the ground and gasped in air. Ford gripped his chin upward.

“You're going to be my reward little brother. I deserve it after all that hard work for a stupid english exam. You deserve it too. To finally be useful to me.”

Ford looked down at Stan's dark outline.

“You know what to do.”

Stan licked his lips and pulled his brother's pants open. He could tell that Ford was half hard already through his boxers. He stuck his face through the zipper and nuzzled the bulging form of his brother's cock, breathing in the musky familiar scent of Ford.

“Please,” Stan mumbled.

Ford rested a hand on the back of Stan's head.

“Please what? Speak up.”

“Please can I suck it?"

Ford gave a toothy grin at this. He hadn't even thought that sucking his cock could be a privilege. Suddenly the image of his brother begging for his cock made it twitch in interest.

“Fuck, I don't know Stanley. How much do you want it?”

Stan leant back into the sand like he was baring his belly and rubbed his own bulging pants. “Do you want to see?”

“No.” Ford grabbed his hair and pulled him back to a kneeling position in front of his cock.

“Suck me,” Ford commanded with a sly grin.

Stan pulled his brother's boxers down and under Ford's cock. He looked up at Ford and slipped his girth into his mouth, all the way until his nose was deep in Fords hair. No teasing, he wanted it all. Ford guided his twin’s head up and down over his cock, like an extension of his hand. Stan was just his tool, but what a good tool he was. Stan's hands slid up Ford's legs and held at his butt, supporting the pivoting motion of his mouth. Ford let out a husky groan as Stan took to swirling a tongue over the head as he pulled out. At one point he rotated between that and deepthroating him and it almost became too much. But that's what he wanted isn't it? For Stan to be his little pleasure toy? To use him? Soon it would be his turn, when the intoxicating nature of his newfound power wanes to his empathy for his brother. Then he’d give it all to him. Ford noted Stan's exceptional technique at sucking him off. Maybe he's practiced? He has to have with how damn good he is with his mouth.

Ford gripped Stan's hair tight, his knuckles going white at the tension. He forcibly increased Stan's pace by facefucking him, pulling his sweet warm mouth to his cock harder and faster, driving Stan's knees deep into the sand. Ford can see his brother's eyes tearing up at the corners and it pushes him right to the edge. This disgusting thing that Stan’s letting him do, defiling him in a dark secret place. It's so completely giving in. Stan moans around Ford's cock and he's cumming undone, pushing his cock hard into the back of Stan's throat. Ford twitches and releases down Stan's throat. Every spurt and drop is milked down. Ford curls over Stan for a moment, but he realises his brother has been holding his breath for a long time and pulls out. Ford unceremoniously falls to the sandy ground and lies on his back in the sand, breathing heavily. Stan lets out not more than a little cough and wiped the saliva from his mouth.

“Woah boy.” Ford almost starts giggling, but suspects he can only break the mood between them so much.

“You right there Sixer? My mouth too much for ya?”

“Don't get cocky. I'll have to punish you.”

“This denial isn't punishment enough?”

Ford sat up and smiled.

“Oh that's not punishment Stan. I can get much worse.”

“You can't stop me Ford. I'm a man with needs. If I don't masturbate, it'll be with some girl I pick up at a bar.”

Ford’s grin lessened at the comment.

Stan noticed and stood up.

“I-” Stan reached out to Ford who was starting to hug at his knees. It took Stan back to before the change. He was his nerdy twin again, not this sexual attraction that had Stan all tangled up inside. 

“Maybe we need to talk about where this is going Sixer.”

Ford slapped Stan's hand away and stood up himself.

“No. Do what you want.” he wandered out of the cave and back towards the house.

 

Stan lay awake on the bottom bunk, replaying the events in the cave. Ford’s gentle breath could just be heard above him. He imagined it ragged and raw, moaning and echoing through the dark. Stan placed a hand on the bottom of the mattress above him and sighed. He could still remember the look of hurt on his brother's face at the callous comment. Could he even-? It had been a while, but Stan was a true glutton when it came to his own satisfaction. This attraction to Ford's restrictions were an anomaly, surely. It would be too much. Stan rolled over to look at his alarm clock. 9:30. Still time to sneak out if he really wanted to. He rolled back to face the wall and decided against it. Involving another person in his brother's feelings felt cruel. Instead Stan pulled a magazine from under the mattress.  _ Buxom babes and beaches, swimsuit issue.  _ What a redundant title. Stan wasn't picky though. He flicked to one of his favorite pages and slunk a hand into his boxers.

Stan was well practiced in being quiet. He’d lived in a room with his brother all through puberty after all. A few moments passed and he could almost imagine himself back on the beach, the feeling of the sand on his knees from sucking off Ford helped. Sun blazed over the well oiled body of a curvy blonde. She lay belly down, her large breasts pushed together by her weight against the hot sand. The strings of her bikini lay strewn to the side. Ford imagined pulling one and the pleasured gasping sound she would make and the friction against her nipples as he personally stripped her, slowly.

“Disgusting.” Ford's judgemental voice snapped Stan out of his daze.

“Ford?” Stan stood up and looked in the upper bunk.

Ford was facing the wall.

“Are you awake Sixer?”

No reply. Maybe he was imagining things.

Stan lay back down on the bed and continued stroked himself.

“Disgusting.”

A jolt of irritation ran through Stan's hand and stopped him.

“Ford. I'm only human,” Stan angrily whispered. “There's nothing wrong with this. I mean I'll stop now because I know you're awake.”

“No cumming till I say so.” Ford's voice slithered down Stan's back.

“You're being unreasonable Sixer.”

“You're being a disgusting slut Stan. I'm sure you can bare not cumming for a few days.”

The hairs on Stan's back stood up in an irrational fear. Days? That was insane. He’d already slowed due to this new development. He hadn't done anything with himself for almost a week, which still surprised him.

“Then I'll give you everything.”

Ford was like the voice of the devil, tempting Stan towards a path of pain and pleasure. Stan looked at the magazine on his bed. Disgusting.

He tossed it up onto the top bunk.

“Here, have this then so I can't use it.”

“I don't want that Stan.”

“Sure you do. You never have any girlfriends. Hell, far as I know, you're still a virgin.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I don't like girls Stan and if all goes to plan, I won't be a virgin for much longer.”

Stan froze.

“S-sorry. I just assumed-”

“Promise me you won't cum until I tell you.”

Stan made a fist, gripping the side of the bed. It was such a strange idea, so unlike anything he’d ever promised before. His skin crawled with the possibilities of what Ford might do to him, but his mind calmed, giving in.

“Yes Ford. I promise.”

“Good. Goodnight Stanley.”

“Night Ford.”

Stan lay awake for a while, looking out the window at the stars and streetlamps and the moths gathering in their shine and dying in their brilliant heat before drifting into an easy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning wood became a suffering curse, more than usual for Stan. Before he had just hid it and thought of wrinkly old grandpas till it went away. Now he’d had his own brother's cock in his mouth, he didn't bother hiding it from Ford. All he had to hide it from was ma and pa. That was easy, both slept in most days. 

 

One morning he’d laid gently rubbing himself on the bottom bunk. Ford sat on Stan's bed next to him.

“Why torture yourself Stan? You know you can't cum. You promised.” Ford grinned.

He lay down next to his brother on the side, slipping a hand under Stan's shirt and across his chest. Stan was too distracted to care, but the contact was soothing and possessive. Ford watched as Stan slowly dragged his hand, growing more red and flustered as it went on. He opened his eyes and turned to face Ford. Beads of sweat graced his brow and his mouth was open, gently moaning.

“You're a mess Stan. It's only been one night.” Ford looked him up and down. He leant in and nudged Stan's head aside to whisper in his ear.

“Stop.” Ford stood up and left. Stan stopped moving and looked up at the roof. He wiped the sweat from his brow and let the harsh burning denial of satisfaction well in his gut. It came to the forefront of his mind that Ford had never kissed him since that first interaction in their room. Maybe he didn't like kissing. Maybe he associated it with Stan trying to be dominant. Whatever the reason, if he couldn't cum, he could at least try for that. How though? Being that close to a needy horny Stan didn't do it. Maybe he could stroke his brother's ego, play nice with his dominant side. Stan wanted desperately to see him satisfied again. Like when he’d begged to suck his cock. Ford's eyes had lit up with confidence.

 

Stan took a notepad and started jotting down ideas. Strangely it started with things that he knew boosted his own confidence: Compliments on his body, his sexual prowess, being touched and stroked, being put first. As the list grew, Stan realised he’d already been doing some of those things. He put his brother first when he could. What would be the epitome of that? Stan wrote down things Ford was proud of: His intelligence, strange discoveries, control. Control. He could give him more control, but he couldn't do it subtly and what control he had was already trying Stan.

 

The next morning, he got up before Ford and made a point to ask:

“Hey uh, Ford.”

“Yes, what is it Stanley?” Ford was busy gathering his schoolbooks.

“What do you think I should wear today?”

Ford turned from the desk to his brother, then without missing a beat, over to the wardrobe. Ford was smart, of course he’d pick up on Stan's plan, but the reward was too subtly enticing for him to pass up. Ford shuffled through the piles of clothes and pulled out a clean red shirt with the word Stan on the front. He held it up to his brother.

“Still fits?” Ford asked.

Stan nodded and smirked at his choice. Stan took the shirt as Ford picked him out underwear and plain jeans. He knew with some sense of demeaning pride that the back of the shirt had a number 2 embroidered onto it. They’d got the shirts as a joke and both fought hard over who was Stan 1 and Stan 2. After it all though, Ford was older and it made more sense. Wearing such a clear indicator of his status behind Ford was stimulating to say the least. It made him feel a little warm.

“What brought this on?” Ford asked, chucking the rest of his clothes to the bed and standing with hands on his hips.

Stan pulled off the white wife beater he wore to sleep with one arm and turned the new shirt right way around. Ford's hands on his hips stopped Stan from putting the shirt on just yet.

“You didn't answer me.”

“I- uh. I just wanted to look good for you.” Stan smiled.

Ford held his brother at the hips and pressed against him, relishing the struggling look Stan gave him at the contact. Stan shook, his cheeks growing flushed.

“Can I-? Can I please kiss you Ford? If I can't cum, please give me this.” Stan gripped at Ford's shirt.

“Not now.” Ford lifted up the shirt in Stan's hand and pressed it against his brother's chest.

“Put it on,” he smiled. Ford radiated satisfaction and confidence at the whole exchange. Stan's blood buzzed and he slid the shirt over his head. His smile, his stride. Ford seemed to grow a foot whenever this happened.

 

Over the next few days, Stan took every opportunity to give over little control to his brother. At dinner, he started asking if Ford could put food on his plate instead of passing it. He always seemed to give him a spoon less or more than he wanted, but he never said a thing. Eventually, Ford started fussing over him before school, tucking in his shirt and brushing his hair. It was like a little possessive grooming ceremony. Stan inhaled every moment. Thankfully the only comments he got were good and always reminded him it was Ford's influence. Stan waited.

At dinner Ford asked Stan to pour them both some juice. Stan complied.

“Tell me when,” he said, oddly while he was pouring his own juice.

Stan's mother eyed the twins. Ford didn't look up from his meal.

“When,” he said.

Stan poured a full glass for Ford and took a sip from his own.

“Are you kids alright?” she asked, looking puzzled at them.

“Yeah, ma what is it?” Ford asked.

She looked at the glass. Stan tried not to blush.

“I just-. Oh it's nothing. Forget about it.” she looked over at the twin's father who was still reading his newspaper, chewing as he did.

Ford gave stan a look like he was going to wring his neck and went back to eating.

 

At their age, the two were expected to work things out as reasonable adults. Their parents wouldn't do more than shout demands up towards their room if they heard a scuffle.

Ford slammed Stan’s back against the wall, soon as they got into their room after dinner.

“Idiot!” he said through clenched teeth, driving is arm up to his brother's neck.

“I’m sorry Ford. It was an accident,” Stan pleaded.

Ford growled at him like an animal and flipped him around so his face was jammed against the wall. He easily gripped both Stan's arms behind his back so he couldn't fight. Not that Stan was trying, but it made Ford feel better to restrict him even more after that stupid blunder. For a while, Ford held him, feeling the pressure of Stan's breathing against the wall, considering. Still holding Stan's arms with one large hand, he wrapped the other to the front of Stan's pants. His brother gasped in surprise and hit his head against the wall. Stan grunted in pain as Ford ignored him, pulling open his belt clasp and pants.

“Ford, what are you doing?” Stan's mind is racing with the possibilities. His head was swimming with images of being fucked against the wall by Ford. It made the pressure against his back by Ford's hardening cock painfully teasing. Stan stood still as possible, not wanting Ford to stop but also fearful that their parents could come upstairs any moment. Ford slid Stan's pants and boxers down under his butt and grabbed the right cheek. There was a terrifying moment of silence.

“What are you sorry for?” Ford's warm breath on his ear raises the hair on Stan's neck.

“F-For saying tell me when.” The pain of it hit Stan before the spanking sound. He let out an indecent yelp. Ford quickly snaked a hand over his mouth and listened for their parents.

“Boys?” came their mother's voice. “What are you doing up there?”

“Making an addition for the Stan o War!” Ford shouted back. “Might be a bit loud. Want me to shut the door?”

“Yeah thanks hon. Watching my soaps,” she shouted back.

Ford shoved Stan to the wall and moved back.

“Stay right there loudmouth.”

There was a click as Ford shut the door. 

He slowly returned behind his brother. Stan had shut his eyes and let the tingling sensation in his ass cheeks envelop him. The promise of more to come, tantalizingly close.

“Open your mouth Stan.”

Ford shoved a clean shirt into Stan's face. He let out a muffled noise of distress.

“Shut up. You made a mistake now you pay for it.”

Ford slapped Stan hard on the backside.

“And don't even think about purposefully repeating your mistake to get this kind of treatment again-” Ford let Stan's arms go to reach down for his brother's cock. “-since you seem to like it so much.”

Stan hadn't realised, but from the rough handling and the spanks he was already achingly hard. Being touched was suddenly heaven. Ford's hands were cooling in contrast to everything else that was burning. His cheeks, his ass and his cock. Stan wormed against his brother, rubbing his ass back against Ford and moaning into the shirt. Ford was breathing hard at the friction against his pants.

“You like that Stan? Being humiliated by your brother. Boxing too easy for you now, you need someone who can hand your ass to you.” Another slap rang out through their room and Stan’s muffled noises followed in pining tones. He desperately sucked in air through his nostrils and clamped his teeth around the shirt. Ford set a steady pace spanking Stan, only stopping to rub the soft skin blooming red. After what seemed like an hour of punishment to Stan, Ford stopped. He threw his brother's drained body over towards the bed and stood towering above him. Stan flinched as Ford reached for his face.

“We're done Stan. It's ok.” He pulled the drool covered shirt from his brother's mouth. “Aftercare?” he offered.

“What the hell’s aftercare?”

“A reward for being so good.”

“Can I cum yet?” Stan gasped, laying back on the bed.

“No.”

Stan let out a long whiny groan. Whatever sexual tension was left from the exhausting ordeal of being spanked had Stan almost crying at this point.

“Fo-ord!” Stan dragged out his brother's name, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

“Yes Stan?” Ford’s voice came from much closer than Stan expected. He opened his eyes to find his brother on all fours over him.

“I can give you something else you wanted.” Ford stayed still a while. Stan took the opportunity to reach up to his brother's face. They focused on the sound of each other's breathing, the only worthwhile sound. Despite their new relationship, neither had taken the time for a more gentle appreciation of each other. Stan caressed Ford's cheek and smiled as he nuzzled and kissed his fingers.

“God. You're driving me crazy Sixer.”

“You won't have to wait much longer.” Ford lowered himself against Stan, pressing them together gently and he took to curling his fingers through Stan's hair. Stan dragged his thumb over Ford's lips before pulling their faces together. The two savoured the moment, but Ford frowned and pulled back.

“Hey, what is it Ford?”

“I- I can't get the thought out of my head. What you said at the beach.”

“Oh Sixer. I'm real sorry I said it.”

“Have you been with anyone else? Since we started?”

“No.” Stan's hands rested on Ford's hips, teasing fingers under his pants. 

Ford looked Stan straight in the eye and there was no hesitation to his answer.

“Good boy.” Ford leant back down to continue making out with Stan.

Stan made a point of being gentle, not wanting to scare Ford off or aggravate him like last time. He sucked and nipped at Ford's bottom lip, all straining and needy. The soft little hums he let out easily betrayed how lost he was becoming in this. His hands massaged Ford's back under his shirt as if sculpting some alien creature from clay. Ford slid his tongue past Stan's teeth, methodically drifting, delving into his brother's warm mouth. He still tasted of the juice from before with a tint of toffee. Ford pulled back, much to Stan's dismay, only to start kissing and sucking along his neck. He moved a hand to the other side of it and coaxed Stan to be calm. 

“Wait, are you gonna-?” Stan started.Ford began sucking harder, biting and marking Stan's neck.

“Aaaa,” Stan let out silent sounds of pleasure and dug his nails into the flesh of Ford's back.

“Fuck Ford.”

Then Ford, in a haze of horniness started grinding between Stan's legs, the delicious friction causing Ford to groan. There was a sound from outside their door. The two froze. The familiar sound of the 2nd step cracking under someone's weight had snapped them out of their frenzy.

Ford returned one last kiss before hauling ass up the bunk ladder grabbing a textbook along the way.

“Take a nap Stan. No other way to hide yourself right now.” Ford pointed at the tent in his brother's pants.

Stan ripped the blankets out from being tucked under the bed and threw them over him, feigning sleep.

The door opened to Stan napping on the bottom bunk and Ford laying on his belly on the top bunk reading. Ford looked up to his mother and put a finger to his mouth, signing for her to be quiet and pointing at Stan. It was common enough for both of them to take long naps, especially on the summer weekends. Ma gave her boy a thumbs up and left the door open as she left. Ford sighed at their escape.

“Ford?”

“Yes Stan?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too little bro.”


	4. Chapter 4

It had been 2 painful weeks of abstaining for Stan. Why was he still doing this. All for the satisfaction of his brother? He must really love him. He must really admire him. He must desperately want to satisfy his every want. It was ridiculous. Now Ford could be counted on to pull Stan aside almost daily for a teasing feel of his brother's cock in a bathroom stall or a passionate morning makeout session that left Stan more sexually frustrated than in his early teens. Stan fell to his knees for every demand Ford made. He drank his brother's evil grins and decadent moans. They sustained him while school was bland and his most interesting home life activity was watching tv upside down on the couch. It was delightful being so owned, so desired by Ford all the time. 

Stan lay on his bed, arms outstretched as he sported a huge boner through the sheets and stared at the ceiling. He let out a deep sigh, feeling the blood pounding through his cock. It would be really nice to cum though.

Ford climbed down the bunk ladder.

“I'm dying Ford.”

“We're all dying slowly Stanley,” Ford replied before looking at his brother.

“I see you mean in a different way however.”

“Can I cum yet?” Stan said blandly, devoid of any hope the answer would be yes.

Ford sat down in his study chair and leant his feet up on Stan's bed.

“You mean, finally satisfy yourself? Why, I'll do it for you tomorrow.” Ford lay back and rubbed himself through his boxers.

Stan's face lit up.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course Stanley. I just want to get what little more torture I can out of you for now.” Ford pulled his boxers down and off himself, pulling his chair closer to Stan. 

“You haven't cum in such a long time. Do you even know how good it will feel?”

“I-I-err.” Stan blubbered, almost drooling at the thought along with the sight of his brother stroking his cock.

“All you have to do is wait one last day Stanley. Can you do that for me?”

Stan nodded and watched as his brother stroked himself hard, letting his head loll back in pleasure. 

“You've had all the buildup of cumming several times, without the release. You know the feeling. The blood rushing through your ears, down to your crotch. Everything else gets a little colder because you're growing warmer, slicker, hotter.” He let out a soft moan.

Ford was such a bastard for doing this, drawing out every inkling of desire from Stan by giving him an example, an image of how good it would feel, a haunting gasp of pleasure to live through till tomorrow. Ford gripped the side of his leg and jerked vigorously. Ford stood up and moved to the bed before suddenly dragging Stan so his legs dangled off the edge of the bed. Ford stood between them, still jerking off, but now he was leaning down over his brother. Stan made a gesture to reach for Ford, but he slapped the hand away.

“Don't touch me,” he scolded.

Stan whined, but stayed still.

“And then you can feel the burn as you extend, past any regular heartbeat, blood rushing to your muscles with every sweet breath.” Ford was still describing what he felt to Stan. He watched as Ford's face flushed red, as his breathing hitched and all of a sudden, warm strips of cum spurted out onto Stan's bare chest. It was so degrading, possessive. Like being marked as his territory. Stan's own cock twitched at watching his brother's orgasm spilling over himself. Ford wiped the tip of his cock against Stan's leg and tucked himself back into his boxers.

“Go clean yourself up before someone sees you like that,” Ford said, still breathing hard as he straightened himself up. He ran a hand through his hair and gave Stan a kiss on the cheek.

“Till tomorrow.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pardon my deus ex machina crossover expository chapter. I promise the next will pay off.

Stan's brain dripped and fizzled. His nerves were trying play catch up to the news. Tomorrow was the day. A friday. When? Where? What was Ford going to do to him.

“Calm down,” he whispered to himself.

“What was that Stan?” Ford was walking a little ahead of him towards their house.

“Uh, nothing. Nothing. I just- How are we going to do this? It's a school day tomorrow and-.”

“Let me worry about that Stan. Don't you have boxing today?”

“Yeah.” Ford smiled. “I'll see you tonight?”

“See you for dinner.”

Ford waved as his brother turned the corner and jogged down to the gym.

“How am I going to pull this off?” Ford muttered to himself, turning down his street. Ford made his way up to Stan and his room and flung himself lazily onto Stan's bed. He pulled a notebook from his backpack and bit the edge of his pencil. The easiest solution would be to get his parents out of the house. It had only been two weeks since their getaway weekend together though and the two weren't frequent holidayers. An emergency? A family gathering? Ford sighed. He wasn't used to the idea of lying to his parents. Maybe in the moment with Stan's body flushed against the wall. Premeditated planning to lie however was more Stanley's game. 

 

An inkling itched at the back of Ford's mind. There was that number he had. Last year's science fair had brought a litany of praise from his perpetual motion machine and even a visit from the most intriguing and disturbing man Ford had the pleasure to meet. It was something of an anomaly. A day out of time and space that Ford would rather forget and that the world only considered an hour of Ford having disappeared somehow. Rick had offered something of a shortcut as Ford saw it. He vowed to take the long and proper road to his genius, but took the stranger's visit as a sign he was meant for great things. Why else would an interdimensional traveller even bother with him? Ford decided he could use a little help this time. It still wouldn't affect his scientific development. This was purely for pleasure. Stan could already imagine Rick's agreement to such a greedy proposition.

Ford shuffled through the papers in his desk drawer for the slip of paper Sanchez had given him.

“Uuurp-in case y-you ever need some bullshit deus ex machina plot point for your adventures, I'll be your god.”

“Thanks, but I don't go on adventures. I really just want to finish high school,” Ford had replied.

“Oh trust me. The majority of you will and do go for that sci fi shennannagins. Some are already at it.”

Ricky Dicky Doo Daa: the card was signed. Under, several variations were scrawled in pencil next to an exceedingly long number in black pen. 

“This had better be worth it.” Ford went to grab the phone from outside the room and took the long cord back in to sit at his desk. He held the card for a long time in front of the phone before he started dialling. The line rang for a few moments as Ford shook his head. This would be awkward, but Rick was a blunt enough guy to understand.

“Hello?” Rick's gravelly voice croaked through.

“Hi, Rick.”

“You’d better tell me who this is before I blast your brains out through the wire.” The sound of anomalous static crackled into life.

“What the- It's me Stanford Pines. You gave me this number.”

“Oh hey St-uuh-anford. Sorry ‘bout that. You must be like the only person I've given this number to in a decade. Don't get many calls. ‘Mm usually busy.”

“Who is that?” a squeaky voice asked in the background.

“No-one,” Rick replied. “Go do your homework or something. So uh, what's up?”

Ford let the silence hang.

“Dude, get over yourself and tell me what you want. I got stuff to do.”

Ford's curiosity pushed him to ask what kind of stuff. He shook the thought from his head and focused.

“Would you be able to help me? I-uh. I need something for a project.”

“Thought you wanted to make your own way in the world Ford. Y-y-you going to take credit for one of my inventions?”

“Are you drunk Rick?”

“When am I not?”

“Ok. That makes this easier for me I guess.” Ford rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. “This isn't to steal your technology or even to understand or develop from it. This is purely… for pleasure’s sake.”

“Oh, I'm gonna need the deets Fordy. You finally gonna lose that V card you were holding onto so tight last time I saw y-you? You scoundrel.”

“It's worse, but I don't want to get into that.”

“Oh no, you want me to give you s-uur-something, you gotta give me the deets bro. The deets! All of em! Gimme them deets!” Ford held the phone away from his ear while Rick kept ranting.

“I want to fuck my brother,”

The line went silent.

“And I told him I would tomorrow,”

Stillness.

“But it's a school day and my parent's are going to be in the house.”

“Wow Ford. That's some depraved shit right there.”

“Ok. Bye then.”

“Woah. Not what I meant you smart doofus you. Of course I'll help. You j-uuh-just gonna call me when you need something though? Not cool dude.”

“S-sorry.”

“Naa, sounds like something I’d do. Just owe me one or something tha-uurp-ts like how I roll or some shit.”

Ford rolled his eyes.

“So any ideas?” Ford asked.

“Freeze ray, stasis bubble universe or time stop. Pick one.”

“Is the time stop stabilised for multiple participants?”

“Yes, y-you just gotta be real sure of yourself when you get out of it otherwise shit goes sideways. Trust me, it's not a fun time.”

“And the other ones?”

“Freeze ray’s risky for long term. Your parents might end up in a million pieces if you're not careful with ‘em. So I guess that depends on how long you're gonna go Fordy.”

Ford could almost feel Rick’s mocking grin from across the multiverse.

“A freeze ray wouldn't take care of the school problem. What’s it like inside the stasis bubble universe?”

“Windy.”

“Time stop it is then.”

“I had to work out some kinks from the last time I used it, b-uuh-t it should be all good now. So what are you gonna do to your brother?” The sound of Rick taking a drink of something crossed loudly through the phone.

“Whatever I want.”

“Ooh Fordsy, sounds like you've tapped into something since I last saw you. Y-you let me know how it goes eh?”

“Aren't you going to come give me the device?”

“Oh yeah.”

There was a burst of green light and suddenly a swirling portal appeared on the back of the door. Ford flinched back.

Rick's hand appeared, offering a small control remote with a transmitter on it.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't,” Rick said through the telephone.

“That’s not a constructive comment Rick. It means nothing.”

“Hah, don't give me your sass Ford.”

Ford took the device and the portal disappeared.

“Call me if you ever get around to interdimensional travel. It’d be fun to not be the smartest one around for a while.”

“Th-thanks Rick.” Ford took the compliment gracefully. Even the one day he’d spent with the man made it clear he wasn't easily impressed.

“No problem.”

“Hey Rick,” the squeaky voice returned. “Dad's got into your eyeholes again.”

“That bastard. Gotta go Ford.”

“Bye-.” Rick had already hung up.

Ford turned the device over in his hand, a simple button. Ford's creative juices flowed through his mind. Why not a dial? Maybe he would take a look under the hood of this thing later. For now. Ford pressed the button for a test. There was a resounding three blue rings that spread out from the transmitter and disappeared at the edges of the messy room. Nothing appeared to have changed until Ford looked out the window. A car had stopped in the middle of the street and showed no signs of moving. The man inside was frozen with an aggravated look on his face. In the distance, no waves washed up on the beach and the birds in the sky hung like stickers to a background. Ford pressed the button again and the world returned to normal. He began writing a list for when his brother returned. Much as he liked having the upper hand, Ford still didn't like the idea of doing anything completely against Stan's will. Reaching the invasive conclusions he had for the plan, asking for his brother's consent became an important point to Ford.

“Oh Stan,” Ford sighed. “I hope you're up for all this.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write a short epilogue after this.

“Stanley, you're just in time for dinner. How was boxing?”

“It was great ma. I might skip the meal though. Twerp got me right in the gut.”

“You lose?” Pa asked from behind his paper.

“Naa, I got him back real good. I might eat later if that's ok.”

Ford gave him a sly smile.

“Ok sweety. I'll save you some leftovers.”

No way that wasn't on purpose knowing what they’d be doing. Stan would be in no position to avoid his questions.

 

After a fairly uneventful dinner, Ford made his way upstairs to the twins’ room. Stan lay comfortably on the bottom bunk, gently snoring. For a while, Ford watched the swell of his brother's shirt against him. It was always surprising how he could appreciate Stan's physicality. It was close to his own, but the split in their similarities were something of an intrigue. Ford sat on the edge of the bed and experimentally stroked a hand along Stan's chest. All his. Stan had proven that by his unwavering dedication to his little restrictions. Ford was sure Stan had followed his direction completely and unequivocally. Part of their morning ritual had become a questionnaire. “How did you sleep?” “Have any interesting dreams?” “Were you good?” The first time Ford asked, Stan gave him a look before understanding. He always answered yes and although he was a sly liar, he could never fool Ford.

“Stan,” Ford whispered close, letting himself lie on his belly beside his brother. “Stan,” he brought a hand up to his face and caressed his cheek.

Stan murmured, pressing his face into Ford’s hand.

“Sixer?” he mumbled.

“I have a list for you. Last preparation.”

Stan brought his hand up to meet Ford's. Turning, Stan gripped the hand caressing his and lazily dragged it across his lips.

“A list of what?” said Stan 

“Things,” Ford stopped as Stan’s tongue pursued the fingers at his mouth. “I'm going to do to you.”

“Why spoil the surprise Ford.” Stan opened his eyes.

“Surprises,” Ford corrected. He moved forward, pressing his lips to Stan's brow.

“Because I don't want to do anything you don't want.”

“Fair.”

Stan sat up and Ford handed him the paper. He gave Ford a sideways look.

“What's with the check boxes?”

“Here,” Ford handed him a pen.

He watched as Stan read each item. He started to worry when he didn't make one mark on the paper. It was a simply tick or cross. Yes or no to a short list. Then Stan made a large slow mark over the entire page. Stan turned it to face Ford and leant an elbow on his knee.

“That detailed enough for you Sixer?” stan had made a large tick over the entire page.

“You ready?” Ford grinned.

“Woah there Ford. Here? Now? With uh, ma and pa downstairs? Doesn't all that seem a little extensive for-” Stan was cut off by Ford’s curt slap to his brother's thigh.

Stan almost yelped at the contact so to his crotch.

“Oh Stan. Stan. You don't think I'd try this without a plan?” He produced the button control from his pocket. Stan gave it an inquisitive look.

“And that is?”

“All the time in the world Stanley.” He pushed the red button and placed the thing carefully on his desk.

“Go downstairs,” Ford ordered.

Stan had removed his pants to doze and now made a motion to put them back to go downstairs.

“You won't be needing those. In fact,” Ford made a move toward his brother, gripping him close by his shirt. “Come here.” Stan balked at Ford's boldness as he was tugged upwards.

He sat Stan up and kneeled with his legs on either side of him. Stan felt the bulge of Ford's pants against his belly and swallowed.

“Ford, really. Someone's gonna hear,” Stan said with an uneasy laugh.

“Trust me, they won't.” Ford glanced outside the window just to make sure. 

In the distance, a flock of seagulls stuck in place like flies on the window.

“I-” Stan gripped his brother's arms holding him in place.

“You ticked everything Stan. I'll have to take time to find out-” Ford slid a hand up his brother's chest appreciatively. “-which were a courtesy to me and which you'll enjoy the most.”

Ford let his large hand drift up to Stan's neck, caress the side of his face and run his thumb over his Adam's apple. Stan breathed in deep and let it out in small jagged steps.

“How does that feel?” Ford pressed around his bulky neck, testing.

“Not, enough,” Stan said, the closeness making him dizzy with unkempt desire, his cock already rising in attention.

Ford chuckled and produced a leather collar seemingly out of thin air. It was jet black, with a ring set in one side. He brought it up to Stan's neck and with ease wrapped it and fastened the clasp. Ford pulled Stan, now from the ring at his neck, so he stood. He was dragged all the way to the doorframe before protesting. His arm braced straight against the wall so he couldn't be pulled any further.

“Voyeurism was not part of any agreement,” Stan said.

Ford spun around with a look of anger and slapped Stan hard. The shocked look reminded him of that first day, brimming with new electric responses.

“You will answer when spoken to Stan,” he ordered.

Stan had fallen to one knee and was breathing hard. He looked back up at his brother and nodded.

“Apologize!”

“I'm sorry Ford.” Stan’s eyes flicked to the stairs, expecting one parent or the other to come see what the noise was about.

“You don't trust me. We'll have to change that.” Ford rubbed a hand over his chin. “Fine.” He walked past Stan and back into their room.

“Go downstairs,” ordered Ford, going about with some homework at his desk.

“What? Like this?” Stan looked down at his lack of pants and tugged at his new collar. “You've got to be kidding.”

“I'm quite serious. Prove you trust me when I say neither of our parents will respond to you, there will be no trouble and we can get on with our… activities. Don't you want that Stan?”

Stan stood up, opening and closing his fists. He could already feel his pants growing tight at the continued pressure on his neck, plus the sting of the slap. That would only make this more embarrassing standing in front of his parents. Stan stood and rested his head against the wall. He did trust Ford, didn't he? It just seemed so impossible that he could have whipped up some convenient solution this quick. Ford was smart though. Stan turned to look at his brother. He gave Stan a sideways glance then went back to his homework. The weaker position had Stan tingling. He looked Ford up and down. He'd grown different since they’d started, taller, more confident. Ford was still his nerdy old self, but there was intrigue replacing his anxieties. Like some kind of mysterious stranger.

“Don't make me wait forever Stan,” they locked eyes and the game became clear. Both wanted the easy way out. The ecstatic mania of a good fuck. Ripping clothes and torn off buttons, but the wait. It was so good. Stan smiled at the pulsing gravitational attraction he felt towards his brother and turned back to the stairs.

“Such delicious torture,” Ford murmured at his workbook.

Ford let his eyes drift down Stan’s back as he walked away, imagining how a strained, sweaty and panting Stan would look from behind. Maybe he’d lift his leg up and fuck him like that. He could almost see him pressing his face deep into the pillow. Pining at every slight ministration against his body. Even if Stan had experience with other men, Ford couldn’t see anyone passing up the chance to be fucked by his bulky brother. Time to turn the tables though. Ford carded back through his memories to the first night, how shocked Stan had looked at his new intimidation. No way. He’d always been on top and that would change. Tonight.

Stan carefully padded down the carpeted stairs and peeked a head around the corner. Nothing. The house was silent. Not the creak of floorboards, a kettle. Stan strained his ears to hear anything before making his way down into the lounge. Pa was sitting at the table as always, glasses on and head buried in the paper. He looked still as a statue. 

_ What happened to the radio? _ Stan wondered. He gulped before walking right past, expectant. When his father said nothing, Stan began to worry.

“Pa?” he said quietly.

Stan waved a hand, then folded the corner of the paper over. No response. He clapped right in front of his dad’s face. Then he turned to the kitchen. Ma was prepping some cups of coffee, pouring them to be precise. The curve of water coming from the pot transfixed Stan. It was frozen, static as a creek fall in winter.

“What did you do Ford?” Stan shouted. He rushed back upstairs, heartbeat pushing his every step and rushing to his ears. They were, for all intents and purposes, completely alone, so long as whatever Ford did lasted. Stan stumbled back up the stairs and steadied himself at the doorframe of their room.

“I, uh- Sixer what did you do?”

“It pays to have friends Stan.” Ford’s calm attitude made Stan shiver. “ I don’t have many, but those I do have pay very well.” Ford stood, closing his workbook. “Would you say we’re friends?”

“Of course,” Stan said, still panting from his rush upstairs.

As Ford prowled closer, Stan stood straight up, conscious of his state. Ford smiled at his brother and gripped the loop at his neck, pulling him close.

“Open your mouth Stan.” Stan did as he was told. “And keep it open.” First he felt the buttons of Ford’s shirt pressing against him, then the warmth of his crotch. Ford’s breath closed the gap between their mouths. He licked the gentlest trace around Stan’s lips, testing and moaning as his brother’s racing breath hitched with excitement. For a moment, Stan closed his mouth into a kiss, locking lips. After such restraint, the week and a half of nothing, it was all Stan wanted. Ford tugged hard at the collar in response, jolting Stan awake.

“Ah ah ah,” Ford scolded. “Who in control now?” With a swing of his arm, Ford drew Stan’s back to face the bed..

“You Ford,” Stan replied, eyes wide at the force his smaller brother could muster. Ford pushed his brother step by slow step until the back of his legs hit the bed.

“Sit! And take your shirt off.” Ford moved on to the bed behind Stan. He wrapped a hand around the front of Stan’s neck and pulled him to lie on his back between Ford’s legs.

“Remember at the beach Stan? In the caves?”

Stan nodded, swallowing.

“I wanted to ask how you’d practiced. Don’t deny it. You’ve done that before.”

Stan let out a sigh. “There was uh, one day in the boxing competition last summer with a kid from down south. Big guy, worked with his folks on a farm I think.”

Ford nodded knowingly.

“We had a good tussle in the ring. There was something different about how he fought though. Kept making excuses to grapple with me, get real close. Bumped into him in the locker rooms and he started coming on to me. Some punches were thrown there, but he still asked to meet me later.” Ford’s hands drifted to Stan’s chin and up to tangle with his hair. Stan seemed to relax at that. 

_ Like petting a big pussycat. _ Thought Ford.

“I thought about just letting it go, he was only in town for two weeks, but my curiosity go the better of me I guess. Uh, he taught me.”

Ford smiled at his brother’s embarrassment, the tactical neglect of details.

“What did you two do?”

“First time, we-” Ford’s fingers traced Stan’s lip. “Made out in the alley behind Athen’s st. Later I met him at the hotel he and his family were staying.” Ford slipped out from behind Stan so he could lie more comfortably.

“And?”

“And that boy could turn the likes of anyone with that mouth. Fuck.” Stan’s had started palming himself through his jeans. Ford let out a snicker. “Almost got caught by his mum twice.”

“How many times did you see him?”

“Five,” said Stan.

Ford was starting to grow irritable. He’d been wrong. Stan had already bottomed for someone. Or maybe not.

“Did he fuck you?” Ford probed.

Stan swallowed before replying. “No.”

A little jolt of relief went straight through Ford.

“Why?”

“He said he was always the top, wanted to be fucked.”

“And who wouldn’t,” Ford said. “ by a fine specimen like you.”

Stan let out a laugh. “You going to study me Ford?”

“I prefer experiment,” Ford replied. “You did tick for receiving anal though. You sure?” Ford leant over his brother, eyes glazed at Stan’s chest. The trail of hair dipping down under his pant line drawing a curious eye.

Stan looked at Ford for a moment before nodding.

“As long as- you know what you’re doing.”

Ford nodded, bringing a hand to his brother’s chest.

“Lube and condoms in the drawer. Arms up.” Stan complied and let out a small protest as a soft band of leather clasped tight around his wrists. Ford continued binding Stan, strapping the cuffs to the bedpost and tying a cloth to cover his eyes.

“Can I ask a question Ford?”

“Good Stan, you may.”

Stan bit his lip. “Where’d you get all this stuff? The collar, blindfolds-”

Ford continued by stuffing Stan’s mouth with a ball gag. Stan huffed his breath through his nose, obviously surprised by his brother’s quick work.

“That time stasis button, makes stealing a whole lot easier.” Ford made a face. “And replacing them once I’m done too, after decontaminating of course. They’ll never care they lost one piece of merchandise for a day and never be able to identify me as the thief.” Ford ran a hand along Stan’s bulging bicep muscles as they tensed.

“Can you get out?” Ford asked.

Stan twisted and squeezed for a moment before shaking his head. Ford watched Stan’s face grow flushed as he breathed deeply around the ball gag. Ford put a hand firmly at Stan’s inner thigh, pressing open his legs. Stan’s mind was racing. It had all happened so quickly that he barely had time to count all the devious things Ford could do to him. Of course his brain had that list vaguely crossing his mind.

All of a sudden, Stan could feel Ford over him appreciatively caressing his chest.

“You know this is the first time I’m doing this Stan. We should have made some sign to say stop.”

“Mmmf,” muffled Stan.

“How about clicking your fingers. Try it.”

Stan clicked his fingers.

“Good. So, if you want to stop, at any time, just click.”

Stan nodded in agreement.

“I heard you in the bathroom after I slapped you you know, the first time.”

Stan froze.

“Gasping over the bathroom sink no doubt. The new discoveries are always the best aren’t they?”

Stan nodded. He could feel the weight on the bed shift as Ford pressed his knee up against Stan’s crotch. The pressure was a welcome contact, but painful at this point of his denial. Now he could feel a slither of drool running down his neck from the gag and almost wept.

“You want me to touch you Stan?” Ford asked.

Stan nodded avidly, squirming with his restraints and rubbing a leg against Ford’s.

“How much?”

Then Stan did something more akin to an animal than Ford’s brother. He opened his legs and raised his head up far as he could, like baring himself in weakness. Ford licked his lips, almost drooling at the perfectly pale patch of skin at Stan’s neck. A canvas for his mark. Ford moved quickly to it, careful not to press too hard at Stan’s dick, but instead rubbing against it. Stan let out a moan of pleasure as Ford latched on with his mouth, gripping Stan’s hair as he defiled the pristine skin. Ford lended a thought to all the girls he’d seen leaving their room with a look of embarrassment and a high pulled coat. Would they have sounded like this? Tensed at the change in pressure, the nibbles and bites clawing at the skin like at animal. Stan mewled through the gag. Somehow Ford didn’t think they would have taken to the punishment he was dishing out. He moved back and glanced at Stan’s hands to make sure he wasn’t missing a click, but they stayed as fists. Stan moaned a complaint at his brother’s absence.

“I’m here,” Ford smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.” He pawed at Stan’s crotch experimentally. Stan let out an indecent moan, long and strained.

“I won’t even try to compete with what that kid taught you. I don’t think you deserve my mouth yet anyway,” he said, unzipping the fly of Stan’s pants. “I hope knowing myself helps though.” Ford dipped his hand into Stan’s pants, encircling his swollen cock and stroking it base to tip. Stan’s head lolled from side to side, murmuring in little pleasured sounds. Ford moved his hands down and removed his brother’s pants. He retrieved the lube and condom from his drawer and set them down on the bed.

“Stan, I have a problem. I can’t stop thinking about how good that time at the beach was and you look so ready for me right now, but I-,” Ford unfastened the gag from his brother’s mouth and the cuffs from the bed. “I could do with some preparation.”

“So- so could I,” gasped Stan.

“Well, maybe we could help each other out?” Ford let his belt out and his pants fell to the ground. He took up the bottle of lube and slipped a hand between Stan’s legs, lying across from him. With the opposite hand, Ford guided his brother onto his side and rearranged so his flaccid cock just brushed his brother’s lips.

Stan playfully slid a tongue over the half hard mess and Ford bit back a groan. Ford liked to play his controlling hand, but he was still a sucker for Stan’s mouth. It was still only the second blow job he’d ever had. Had he been standing, his knees would have grown weak at Stan’s luscious work. The pair’s sounds melded, building as Ford ran a finger along Stan’s asshole. Stan tensed, but Ford massaged the surrounding muscles to help him relax. After slicking up his fingers, he worked gently at the tight muscle, eventually sliding a finger inside. Stan squealed and huffed, engulfing Ford’s member to shallow the embarrassing noises he was making. Paradoxically this only made Ford more vocal. This cycle continued, building as Stan expertly sucked at Ford and Ford worked his brother’s hole open. Stan began to shudder at the movement as Ford dipped in another finger. He was blatantly curling to find the sensory bundle that struck a fire along Stan’s cock and forced him off to gasp in a deep breath.

“Fuck!” Stan hissed.

Ford added a third finger with some more lube and after another minute stood up.

“I- Fuck Stan, come here.” Ford gripped Stan by the hips and dragged him to the end of the bed, slipping with the hand that had fingered his brother, but persevering nonetheless. He let his cock nestle just in the crack of Stan's ass. The thought of Stan's face as he was fucked was too delectable to pass up.

“Leg up.” Ford slipped on the condom, then rested Stan's leg at his shoulder.

Stan had dragged one of the pillows with him and from what Ford could see he was biting down hard on it.

“Take off the blindfold Stan. I want to see what a mess you are.”

Stan stayed still, his mouth quivering.

“Stan!” Ford growled.

He tugged off the blindfold and bit back on the pillow.

“Not even in you yet and you're trash.”

“Fuck me Ford please, god damn it.”

Ford pressed forward and slowly, steadily filling Stan right up to the hilt. Stan let out a choked gasping sound at the stretch, tears pearled at the corner of his eyes. Ford's gaze was fixed on the fabric of the pillow, wondering if he’d could work him up enough to tear a hole in the thing. He let out a wicked grin, all teeth and shine. Their lifetime of uneven standing was writhing up inside Ford's gut, ready to snap. He pulled back slow and thrust in. Stan grunted at the movement, void of any words worthy of it anymore.

“Fuck.” Ford exclaimed.

The taming of his beast would be total, complete and thorough. Stan in his tense body was starting to push back into the movement. Every muscle was taut and stimulated in time to the braced pounding of his flesh. Ford gradually increased his pace, hugging Stan's leg to push closer, deeper into Stan's tight hole. The squeeze around him was so perfectly indulgent. It pulled him in again and again. Sweat trailed along Ford's neck and down Stan's leg. His breath matched Ford's pace, letting out a puffing breath like a steam train with every inward push. 

“You said before Stan, it wasn't enough,” Ford panted between plunges. “Is this enough?”

“Fuck, yes,” he managed, panting into the pillow.

Ford paused a moment to tug his brother's hands towards his leaking cock. Stan let out a relieved sigh and matched Ford's pace in his own ministrations.

Ford angled his thrusts towards Stan's front, edging up, searching for the spot to make Stan scream out. Once, twice and on the third thrust he could feel the changing spasms clasp tight around him, milking his cock. Ford came soon after that. Stan's breathing became quick and short for a while, desperately pushing himself over the edge. His cum spurted haphazardly into the sheets. Ford finished pumping a few last shallow thrusts into his ass and fell to the side. Tugging off the condom, Ford tied it to a knot and threw it in the bin.

The two lay close, spent together, enjoying each other's scent and touch as close as they possibly could. Ford ended up spooning Stan and pulling the blanket over them both.

“Worth the wait?” Ford asked.

“I-I can't-”

“Hush then. Sleep.”

Stan grasped his brother's hand to his chest, letting it move in and out with his breath. Ford's own chest grew warm with the gesture. The two fell into a timeless sleep, reserving all word for tomorrow, that need never come if they didn't desire it.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to add all correct tags, please let me know if you think I should add any more. I'm not hugely thorough, but this was enjoyable. Look out for more of my stuff (another slower Stancest fic on the way). I think I'll keep writing here. Enjoy. :)

“Sweety, why are you sleeping in Stan’s bed?” Ma pines asked, passing on the way to the master bedroom.

Ford rolled over, wary of his naked body under the blanket.

“Oh, ma. I- uh. I was feeling kind of queasy. Yeah. Stan said I could sleep down lower to the ground. He thought it might help.”

“Have you seen him around then? He didn’t come down for his leftovers after dinner.”

Ford looked about the room. Stan’s clothes were gone.

“No, I haven’t.” Ford furrowed his brow and rubbed his eyes.

The blanket slid down and Ma looked away.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Come down for some breakfast soon and we’ll see if we can’t figure out where he went.”

“He’s probably just out with some girl Ma, you know how Stan is,” Ford called after her.  _ Where was Stan? _

He stood up and wrapped the blanket around him, rubbing the back of his neck. Ford hoped he hadn’t gone too far. Of course this could be Stan running away from him, but damn. It was hard to deny they’d both enjoyed last night.

_ Last night. _ “Hell!” Ford muttered. When had time started again? He slipped on his pajama pants and shuffled through his desk papers, then the drawer before the realisation hit him.

“Stan you son of a-”


End file.
